


December (Eight months, LaRusso, it's getting pretty serious)

by kdyelo



Series: Secrets exposed [2]
Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Divorced Daniel, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, lawrusso
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdyelo/pseuds/kdyelo
Summary: Our heroes move in together, and it’s going wonderfully... until Daniel’s mom comes for a visit. Lucille has a few surprises ahead of her.(This sequel to Secret History can also be read on its own.)
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Series: Secrets exposed [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058060
Comments: 98
Kudos: 176





	1. Weekend revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time, Daniel looks nervous. "Every year, ma and I take turns. I fly out to visit her in Newark, or she flies out here and stays with me. This is her year to visit. She arrives Friday."
> 
> Johnny resolves to play along as best he can. "I would have liked more notice, Jesus, when were you going to tell me? We can fix up the extra bed in the office, there's plenty of space-"
> 
> "She, uh, doesn't know anything about this." As he says 'this', he waves his hand vaguely between the two of them.

One Saturday morning, a few weeks after Daniel moved in, Johnny catches him washing the gray out of his hair, so to speak. More accurately, he spots the box of Just For Men in Medium Dark Brown in the trashcan next to the toilet while he's taking a leak. He gleefully hoists the empty box in one hand and corners LaRusso in the kitchen, crowing, "I _knew_ it wasn't natural! I knew it!"

Daniel freezes mid-sip, blanches, then recovers and rolls his eyes. "Christ, Johnny, I'm almost 50. Everyone gets some gray at our age."

"I don't," he gloats.

"Yeah you do," Daniel corrects him firmly. "They're not as noticeable because you're a blonde."

"A _natural_ blonde," he agrees smugly. "Wait, what? Bullshit, I do not."

Daniel casually places his coffee cup on the granite countertop. "Yes, you do."

"Oh yeah, prove it."

Daniel leaps at him, straight arms him into the living room, and wrestles him face-down to the deep-pile carpet. Shocked by the sudden attack, Johnny squirms, trying unsuccessfully to loosen LaRusso's grip, but he's got his full bodyweight pressed into Johnny's back, one arm trapped under him and the other pinned behind his back. With his one free hand, Daniel roots around on his scalp and plucks a single hair. Triumphantly, he waves it in front of Johnny's face where he's still cheek-down in the fibers of the rug. "See?"

"Ow! No!" Sure, Daniel is full of shit about this gray hair business, but Johnny has to admit he's getting pretty turned on grappling on the floor with him.

"Old fucker, where are your reading glasses?" Daniel moves the hair several inches farther away from his nose; Johnny squints and frowns.

"Fuck! That's not mine!"

LaRusso leaps up, releasing him, and backs away laughing, still holding the silver hair between his index finger and thumb. Johnny rolls to his feet to chase him down, and it's _on_.

A short while later, Johnny lets go of his grip on the headboard, releases Daniel from where he had him pressed hard to the mattress, and flops onto his back on his bed... their bed. Both men are panting, flushed, and all that carefully-styled fake brown hair of his is ruffled and mussed, just how Johnny likes it. Daniel intertwines their hands, eyes glazed and a sappy grin on his face; Johnny loves seeing this relaxed post-coital version of his _boyfriend_. (Although months have passed, he's still getting used to the word.)

"You're killing me," Daniel murmurs. "You know I'm going to be sore as hell?"

"What can I say," Johnny chuckles, "can't help myself." 

Daniel punches him in the arm without any real force.

"Seriously, though, LaRusso. Christmas is coming up. Are we going to go get a tree and all that shit? Roast a goose? Hang stockings?" When Daniel stills, Johnny sits up to look at him, and it occurs to him they are still learning about each other, months into this thing between them. Maybe... " _Do_ you even celebrate Christmas?"

For the first time, Daniel looks nervous. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he starts. "Every year, ma and I take turns. I fly out to visit her in Newark, or she flies out here and stays with me. This is her year to visit. She arrives Friday."

Johnny feels an uneasy mixture of curiosity and fear, but he resolves to play along as best he can. If they're moving forward together, he'll need to get to know his partner's mother eventually. He just didn't realize it would be this soon. "I would have liked more notice, Jesus, when were you going to tell me? We can fix up the extra bed in the office, there's plenty of space-"

"So," _here it comes,_ "She, uh, doesn't know I moved in with you."

Johnny stares at him. "Okay. What _does_ she know?"

"I haven't told her anything about this." As he says 'this', he waves his hand vaguely between the two of them.

"Holy shit," he breathes. "What was your plan, just bring her here and spring it on her all at once?" he demands. "Or check her into a hotel room somewhere in Reseda and hide it from her?" He's still working through his thoughts about all this, but the feeling coming to the forefront at the moment is hurt, because Daniel hasn't even told her he's seeing someone, which seems crazy given how serious their relationship is getting. LaRusso just gave up his apartment and moved in with him, for fuck's sake. That's pretty serious in Johnny's book. 

Daniel sits up hurriedly, cradling the nape of Johnny's neck with one hand and looking into his eyes. "No, John, I don't want to hide this. Please don't think - I can see why you might think that. I just have to figure out how to tell her."

Johnny withdraws his hand from where their fingers are still intertwined. "It sounds like you have a lot to sort out, LaRusso," he says flatly, standing up and pulling on his briefs and sweatpants. As he stalks through the bedroom door, he pauses and fires over his shoulder, "Let me know when you figure out where I fit in." 

Behind him, he hears Daniel mutter a quiet "Shit."


	2. Lucille, Take 1

That afternoon, Daniel calls Lucille "just to check in," intending to prepare her for all the... changes she'll notice when she visits.

"So, ma, I've moved to a new place since you last came out," he starts. "I'm not at the South Seas anymore."

"That's wonderful, honey," she replies. "I know you liked the South Seas because it's so close to work, and it's certainly much nicer than when we lived there, but honestly, sweetie, a little change is good for you. I was so worried you were getting stuck in a rut in that same old apartment all by yourself."

 _You don't know the half of it, ma,_ he thinks, pressing on nervously. "The new place is... well, it's not just me now. I moved in with someone. We have a really nice room set up for your visit, with a view of the ocean, I think you're going to like it while you're here. We can put up a tree-"

Lucille interrupts. "You haven't told me a thing about living with someone, kiddo. When did all this happen?"

He chuckles a little when she calls him, a grown 48-year-old man, 'kiddo'. "Just a few weeks ago. So, you know, it's recent. New. But, we've known each other for a long time. Ma, you might not remember him, but the person I've moved in with, it's, uh, Johnny Lawrence."

"Where would I know him from?" Lucille presses. "His name doesn't ring a bell. Is this someone you work with?"

"We go way back to high school. Do you remember that other dojo I was always getting into fights with?" 'Getting into fights' is far from an accurate description of what Johnny's gang put him through back in the day, he knows, but this conversation is going so much easier than he'd hoped it would, so he puts the kindest spin on their history that he can justify.

Their conversation stalls; Lucille is silent for several awkward seconds. "John Lawrence..." she trails off thoughtfully. "Not that pretty boy from the tournament?"

He can't suppress a smirk at his mom's recollection, over the thirty-year gulf, of Johnny's good looks. He takes a moment to peer in through the sliding glass door at the pretty boy himself, who is working on his laptop at the dining room table and doing his level best not to listen in on Daniel's side of the conversation out on the balcony. He gives a thumbs-up; Johnny raises his eyebrows and responds with that crooked little smile Daniel remembers from high school. _Thank god;_ he's not sure how much more stoic distance he could stomach.

"Yeah, ma," he confirms, "the pretty boy from the tournament." He braces for her response to _that_ news.

She hmphs and retorts sharply, "Well, he wasn't a very nice boy. He and his friend did a real number on your knee, Danny, I still remember that sensei of yours carrying you off the floor in tears. You hobbled around in that brace all spring, and let's not even talk about the doctor bills-"

He grimaces and turns away from the glass before Johnny can see a change in his expression. "Come on, ma, that was a long time ago. People change, right? I mean, look how much I've changed in thirty years. Give him a chance."

"Well, it's your business," she says noncommittally. "I certainly hope he's become a better person."

"You'll see," he promises. "Let's go out for dinner as soon as you arrive. Does that sound like a good idea? You'll be hungry after that long flight. I'll pick you up and we'll swing by the condo."

They close with their usual 'I love you's - she always calls him kiddo when she says it - and he hangs up the phone feeling buoyed. Aside from that little hitch in the end - a mother's protective instinct never goes away no matter how old the child is - he never dreamed she would take all of this in stride. For once, she didn't even get in any digs about Amanda. Ma was brought up in a strict Catholic household, and while they were never practicing, he knows she carries some of those traditional views from her own upbringing. Then again, she always did know how to roll with the punches - he'll never forget how they pluckily push-started that old station wagon across the country. Maybe he should have given her more credit.

He slides open the glass door and grins at Johnny. "Ma took it really well," he enthuses. "I don't know what I expected; I thought she'd be more shocked? Well, good news, we're on for dinner after I pick her up from the airport Friday. Can you be home from work by 5:30 or so?"

Johnny's half-smile disappears and he pales. "Oh shit, LaRusso, I'm meeting your mother," he worries. "What if she doesn't like me? If she remembers me from back then she's not gonna like me. You didn't remind her of any of that, did you?" When he sees the expression on Daniel's face, he groans.

"She remembers, but it's been thirty years, Johnny. How much of a grudge could she hold after all this time?"

Johnny cocks a challenging eyebrow at him. "I guess we're about to find out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Daniel successfully conveyed his message?


	3. Interlude: karate boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s check in on life at the dojo, and see who’s walking crooked.

"All right, sensei," Daniel tells him, "you're about to find out why it's a bad idea to ravish your assistant until he can't walk straight."

Johnny chortles as they walk from the car towards Cobra Kai for the first of their two Sunday afternoon class sessions. "Come on, it can't be that bad," he murmurs.

"You'll find out because it's my turn tonight." The asshole grins at him, smacks his arm, and jogs ahead, beating him through the door before he can come up with a retort.

They get the mats laid out and bags set up together, then dress in their gis and spend some time warming up before the first set of students and their parents trickle into the dojo. Johnny instructs; Daniel spends the first half of the session in the dojo's office marking attendance, emailing statements, and paying invoices until Johnny calls him out to the floor to help demonstrate the day's exercises. They divide and conquer, pairing up students and encouraging, or correcting, their performance. 

For the second class of older kids in the afternoon, they run mock matches in parallel, each taking point on one pair of kids; some in this group are preparing for the upcoming tournaments running through January and February. This will be Daniel's first involvement in the tournament cycle in thirty years, and Johnny watches him carefully, trying to decide whether to encourage or discourage Daniel's participation. He still doesn't know the details of what happened, but Daniel has volunteered enough that he knows no tournament will be a walk in the park for him.

After the second class is done, Johnny chats with Brent, one of the students' fathers, near the door as kids and their parents trickle out. After a few minutes, Brent leaves with his sixteen-year-old in tow, and Johnny joins Daniel in the little dojo office to wrap up the day.

"What was that about?" Daniel asks him curiously. "Looked serious."

"Not so serious," Johnny tells him, "but he had some questions about the tournament. This is the first year his kid is participating, and I think he's nervous about it."

Daniel grunts and looks away from him, towards the handful of old photos of them Johnny dug out of storage, framed and hung on the office wall. Johnny likes the sense of history they lend, and Daniel usually does too, but sometimes, he'll catch him looking at them quietly, thoughtfully. Not all of the memories are happy ones, and these photos also serve to remind them both of the importance of being _good_ teachers.

"I invited him over to The Boardroom for a drink with us," Johnny continues. "I hope that's okay. I thought, since you're heading there anyway..."

"Of course it's okay," Daniel reassures him. "Why not? We can head over together." He leans in closely, runs the fingers of one hand up into Johnny's hair, and tugs him in for a soft kiss full of promise. Their hands-on demonstrations always seem to pique Daniel's interest; Johnny grins into Daniel's mouth, seizes him around the waist to pull him tightly against his body, and they rub against each other like horny teenagers until, finally, Daniel takes a step back. "We'd better cool it," he says, "or we're not going to make it to the bar."

"Tempting," Johnny growls, but he too steps back. "All right. Let's get changed."

It's nearly six when they arrive, just starting to get dark, and they find Brent already settled into Daniel's favorite booth. Daniel gives Johnny an affectionate one-armed embrace before heading towards the kitchen to catch up with Laura; Johnny makes his way over to Brent.

"Hey," Brent greets him. "You two are looking good. I guess the move has worked out well?"

Johnny takes a seat and grins confidentially. "It's going well," he confirms. "Really well."

Brent grins back at him. "Good for you. I have to say, when I first ran into him, I thought he was cute, kind of your type too, but never would have guessed... well. What are you doing for your first Christmas together?"

For the first time, Johnny grimaces. "His mother is coming to visit."

Brent laughs uproariously. When Daniel appears with three beers, he's still snorting and wiping his eyes, so Daniel looks towards Johnny, questioning.

"You don't want to know," Johnny chortles.

Daniel rolls his eyes. "So, Brent," he starts, handing him one of the drafts and sitting next to Johnny, "heard you have some questions about the tournament?"

"Yeah, well, kind of. I'm just worried about him, you know? I see how passionate these kids are in the practice matches, and I know you guys set good boundaries and enforce the rules in practice. But, in the real deal, in competition, do they ever get carried away?"

Daniel looks towards Johnny casually, conversationally; under the table, he clenches his hand tightly enough to hurt.

Johnny squeezes back as he answers. "We have experienced judges and a referee for each match," he explains, "and all of the dojos agree to abide by the same rules. As senseis, we're also there to watch."

He looks over at Daniel, who nods in agreement. "It's all very well-managed," he contributes. "Johnny has been involved for years. This will be my first year back in a long time, of course. I'm interested to see what's changed."

"Well, I feel good having a two-time champion in Jake's corner," Brent grins at Johnny.

"Two of them, actually," Johnny corrects him, ignoring the little warning frown Daniel gives him. "Daniel won it two years running."

"Wow, seriously?" Brent enthuses. "Crazy, right? You two reconnecting after all these years. I feel better about all this; thank you. I just had this vision, you know, of Jake getting hurt. I guess it's silly. You've never seen an injury on the mat either?" He directs this question to Daniel with interest.

Daniel's mind blanks; he opens his mouth, but can't speak for several long seconds. He finally manages to offer a calm "Excuse me," before he stands and walks away, towards the back of the bar and into the kitchen, where Johnny knows he'll sequester himself in his office for a moment, or an hour.

Brent and Johnny look at each other awkwardly across their beers. "Things were different thirty years ago," he explains without explaining. "That's why I took this on. I wanted to change the way things were done and make it better for our students than it was for us. I don't want you to worry about Jake. He'll be fine; the kid's going to have a blast."

Brent is still looking after Daniel with concern. "Is he going to be all right? I didn't mean to, I don't know, bring up bad memories?"

"He's fine," Johnny reassures him jovially. "Don't make it a thing. Tell me what you and Jake are doing over the holidays..."

Forty-five minutes later, Johnny sends a reassured Brent out the door, then makes a beeline to Daniel's office. He finds it locked and knocks gently; Daniel opens it quickly with a hurried apology. "Shit, I'm sorry. He came looking for assurances and I completely freaked him out by acting like a wacko-"

"Quiet," Johnny orders. "He's fine. Happy as a lark, not a care in the world." Then, pulling him into a hug, he confirms, "Are you all right back here?"

"I'm fine, just needed some space. Johnny, I don't know why you put up with my shit."

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, asshole," Johnny squeezes him a little tighter before releasing him. "Let me know when you're ready to head out. No rush."

They're home by 8:30, and in bed by 9, but sleep comes much later. After a heated makeout session, Daniel securely pinions a very eager Johnny to the bed on his back, opens him up with thrusting fingers, then fucks him with a slow, deep passion that drives Johnny out of his mind. By the time Daniel brings him to a loud climax, it's a miracle the neighbors aren't complaining.

"We'll see who's walking crooked tomorrow morning," Daniel whispers into his ear; Johnny's too wrecked to retaliate.


	4. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucille arrives in L.A. and gets her first look at Johnny’s and Daniel’s place.

Lucille's flight is an hour late. With TSA rules the way they are, Daniel is left to pace restlessly near baggage claim, compulsively checking his Delta app notifications and texts. Finally, he gets the notification that her aircraft is at the gate, and texts Johnny: "she landed. See you in an hour"

Johnny texts him back a little grimacing-face emoticon; he rolls his eyes at his phone, knowing he, Daniel, is nervous enough for the both of them.

They'd stayed up late the night before to pack away any paperwork and clutter in Johnny's office, then extend and make up the sofabed which, Daniel has to admit, is nearly as comfortable and plush as their own bed, and certainly nicer than where she'd slept in his apartment on her previous visits. Mercifully, the condo has two bathrooms, so they don't need to declutter any toiletries - Johnny's scented soaps and favorite aftershave, Daniel's organic hair products - or do any real cleaning. Daniel is still struggling to wrap his mind around the idea of sharing a bed with Johnny while his ma is right in the next room. Are they really going to do this? Is it really going to be five days before he and Johnny can get it on again? They're going to have to go parking or something before this visit is over. He's just about worked himself into a paroxysm of anxiety by the time he sees his ma cresting the escalator.

"Ma!" he calls out.

"Danny!" she calls out, arms spread welcomingly, and he steps into his first _mom hug_ in a year. No matter how grown he is, he always feels the same rush of warmth and security when he hugs his ma that he felt when he was ten.

They're excitedly talking over each other the entire way to the car, and Daniel feels his old city accent reemerge, fueled by his ma's oh-so-familiar speech pattern. "Son, you look great," she finally tells him as he loads her bags into the trunk of Johnny's Audi. "You look happy. Like you're sleeping well, and you're getting some sun. Only in California can you get a tan in December, right, kiddo?"

He has to laugh because she's right. "Wait 'til you see the place," he enthuses as he opens the car door for her. "You're going to love the view."

"Did you buy a new car?" she asks. "I expected you'd be driving the truck."

"Oh no, I still have the truck. This is Johnny's car."

"Really," she says dubiously. "Well. He must be doing quite well for himself."

He hears the disapproval in her voice and looks over at her in mild surprise. But then, he knew from their phone conversation that she wasn't exactly sold on Johnny - yet. "Give him a chance, ma," he admonishes lightly. "For me."

Because he's driving, his eyes are on the road and he doesn't notice the confusion in her expression.

They've picked up the easy flow of conversation again by the time they pull into the parking lot of the condominiums at 7 pm. She looks around at the tony building, the other residents' luxury cars, and the ocean just across the street with eyebrows raised. "Very nice," she comments. "They let you in the front door?" He laughs and gives her a friendly swat on the upper arm, and she affectionately swats him back with a grin of her own. Thus buoyed, Daniel shoulders Lucille's luggage and leads her through the modernist lobby - which elicits another "very nice!" observation from his ma - and into the elevator.

"You're able to afford all this?" she marvels.

"We split the bills, and the bar is doing very well," he tells her. "Don't worry about it ma, we're doing fine."

"Well, it's certainly a step up from how I brought you up," she says, and for the first time, he hears a little note of sadness in her voice. Daniel knows she often thinks about her husband, his father, over the holidays; she never remarried after he died, and the holidays are often bittersweet for her. He considers what those solitary years must have been like with a new appreciation and feels moved to give her another hug, as luggage-encumbered as he is.

"We were always happy, though, ma," he says warmly. "It didn't matter how tough things got, we always found a way. Remember our epic road trip across the country? I was so sick of that station wagon by the time we got here-"

They're happily reminiscing as he unlocks and opens their front door; Lucille looks around curiously at the open floor plan and high ceilings, the sage walls and monochrome art prints, and the wall of windows overlooking the dark ocean. "Well, this is beautiful," she says under her breath.

"Okay," he mumbles, feeling uncharacteristically bashful, "we have you set up in here, ma, come on." He leads her into the office/guest room and sets her bags on the bed, showing her the hallway bathroom on the way. "There's a great Italian place just a few blocks away; are you still up for going out to dinner?"

"Oh sure, sure." She's still studying the condo with curiosity, and, he thinks, with puzzlement. He notices when she peers surreptitiously into the master bedroom they share, then again at the room they've set up for her visit, which is clearly an office set up as a temporary bedroom, before finally returning her gaze to him speculatively.

Johnny is nowhere to be seen, he realizes. "Settle in, let me see where Johnny's off to."

She hugs him again - Lucille has always been affectionate with her only son - and pats him on the arm. "I'll freshen up a bit," she tells him and closes the bedroom door gently behind her.


	5. Lucille holds a grudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody can deliver a guilt trip like a LaRusso.

While Lucille freshens up for their dinner out, he looks for Johnny and finds him brushing his teeth in the master bathroom. "Good flight? Drive okay?" he asks Daniel around his toothbrush.

"No problems," Daniel replies, "Just delayed, ground hold at Newark - who knows. Ma's freshening up a little, then we'll head over to Luigi's. Are you ready for this?"

Johnny spits and rinses. "No, I'm nervous as hell," he replies, "but I'm in."

Daniel encircles Johnny's waist with his arms. "Don't worry," he reassures him. "Everything will be great. You'll see." They share a gentle kiss, he smooths Johnny's sweater (because he's dressed up just a little tonight in a collared shirt, sweater, and dark jeans), then they walk together to the living room to wait for Lucille.

About fifteen minutes later, Lucille bustles into the living room wearing fresh lipstick and a bright coral blouse. "I'm ready to party!" she announces cheerfully - then her eyes land on Johnny, where he's just come to his feet from his seat on the sofa.

"Mrs. LaRusso," he greets, using his most polite 'meet the parents' voice and extending his hand. "It's nice to meet you. I hope you had a good flight."

Behind Lucille, Daniel rolls his eyes at him with a grin, but Johnny is focused apprehensively on Lucille. She looks him up and down, takes his hand for a matter-of-fact handshake, and comments, "The three of us, then? How lovely." If her tone is just a bit wry, Daniel misses it.

Daniel and Johnny are stilted and formal on the short drive to Luigi's in the Audi with Lucille in the back seat, and awkward as the host seats them at a reserved booth in a quiet corner of the restaurant. Once seated, with Lucille on one side and the men next to each other opposite her, Johnny clasps Daniel's hand under the table for reassurance, and Daniel presses his knee against Johnny's. Braced, they look across the table at Lucille, whose eyes are trained on them both while Daniel orders a bottle of wine for the table.

"So," she begins, "how did you two run into each other after all of these years?"

Daniel launches right into the story about kicking Johnny's rude friend out of the bar one night; Johnny groans and reddens. "It was bad," he agrees, "but I came in the next day to apologize to Mei, and we struck up a conversation-"

"-and then I kicked _him_ out of the bar," Daniel continues.

"But that was a misunderstanding," Johnny finishes. "Your mom is going to think I'm a complete jerk if you keep telling these stories-"

"Oh, I have some stories," Lucille breaks into their cozy banter with a steely glint in her eyes. "I remember my son coming home with a black eye the very first day we moved here, and lying to me about it."

Daniel stares at her, mortified into silence.

"Do you remember begging me to drive us back across the country to Newark in that old car of ours, and we were lucky it made it across the country the first time-"

He finally breaks through his embarrassment enough to object. "Ma."

"-because you hated it here, with those Cobra jerks bullying you every day, and I was working double shifts just to keep a roof over our heads so I couldn't even go down to the school to give them a piece of my mind-"

"Ma!" He puts some vehemence into his voice.

"-and don't even get me started on that karate business, those boys ganging up on you, I will never forget you wearing that knee brace into the summer, and we had no health insurance so it took me years to pay off all the doctor bills-"

He orders, "Ma, stop."

She huffs, staring at Johnny challengingly. "Do you remember that?"

Johnny stares down at his unopened menu, shocked and obviously at a loss for words. Daniel squeezes his hand under the table before replying. "Ma, that was thirty years ago. Give it a rest."

"Well, _I_ remember it like it was yesterday."

This distressing conversation is interrupted by the arrival of the waitress who seems to realize, as soon as she looks at the tense faces of her three guests, that she's intruding on a fraught moment. "I'll give you a few more minutes with your menus," she offers weakly and retreats from the table.

Johnny takes a breath and looks up, visibly steeling himself before responding. "You're right about how I behaved," he starts.

"Of course I am!"

"Ma, come on!"

"...and I'm sorry for what I put Daniel through. What I put you both through. I wasn't a very good kid," he admits, "but I've worked hard to change. That's not who I am anymore."

Daniel feels desperate to stop this discussion before it spins out of control again. "Ma, please drop it. We don't have to talk about this tonight. Let's just have a nice dinner, okay?"

She pauses, purses her lips, and studies Daniel. She must see something in his expression because she sighs, softens, and looks down at her wine glass. "You sound just like your father," she tells him with a little laugh. "When he passed away, he was younger than you are now. You were such a little guy yourself, barely eight years old."

Daniel feels Johnny turn to look at him; at the same time, he watches his mother notice this and turn her attention to Johnny once more. "Daniel is right," she tells him, "I shouldn't have said anything. John, he might be a grown man now, but he'll always be my little boy."

Daniel drops his head into his hands and groans in resignation.

Johnny directs his gaze back to Daniel's mom and says, "I understand, Mrs. LaRusso, my mom would have been the same way." He elbows Daniel as the waitress returns to the table and suggests, sotto voce, "Order for us, you know what's good."

Daniel looks at him apologetically from behind his hands and dimples a cheek, making Johnny blush. "Yeah, okay."

All three make an effort to put the tension behind them, and by the time their plates arrive, the conversation is flowing relatively smoothly, even pleasantly. They agree to spend Saturday buying and decorating a Christmas tree, and by the time the check arrives, Lucille and Johnny are happily debating the merits of making homemade biscuits for Christmas dinner. Daniel breathes a sigh of relief - they might all make it through this visit alive after all.

Lucille retires to bed as soon as they return to the condo, citing the long flight and the effects of the wine. Johnny and Daniel collapse on the sofa together and turn on the television with the volume low. After a brief argument about whether to watch Bar Rescue or Forged in Fire, they finally settle on South Park.

"That didn't go well at all," Johnny laments. "She remembers me very well, LaRusso, and she hates me."

"It wasn't that bad," Daniel disagrees. "I mean, there was that first part where she dug up every bad thing you ever did to me in high school-"

"Yeah, that sucked," Johnny agrees. "You could have said something about how you instigated half that shit. Stealing my girlfriend, dumping water on me at the dance, _constantly_ rubbing it in my face when I wasn't allowed to kick your ass until the tournament-"

"She wasn't your girlfriend, she was your ex-girlfriend, you were a total jerk about it, and you know it. Besides, ma warmed up to you by the end of dinner. All that talk about cooking. You'll be fine."

"Listen, LaRusso, I didn't know all that stuff about the doctor bills and your mom working double shifts and your dad-"

Daniel stops him, not liking the direction this is going. "That's ancient history. Come on, let's go to bed. We'll need our strength tomorrow."

They can't fool around with his ma right next door, but Daniel decides it's almost as good when Johnny spoons him, wrapping an arm around his chest and curling their legs together.


	6. Lucille Take 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s amazing - no matter how old you are, your mother can still make you feel like a ten-year-old.

For once, Daniel is the first one awake Saturday morning. He dons his favorite jeans and a clean, long-sleeved t-shirt before heading into the kitchen barefoot to start a pot of coffee. With a mug of creamed-and-sugared coffee, his cellphone, and his reading glasses, he settles into one of the balcony chairs to catch up on the news and check the bar's social media accounts.

His mom is the first to join him on the balcony. He jumps up to pour her a cup before settling in for what he knows is going to be an interrogation. He just hopes she's gentle.

"How's the house doing, ma?"

"The house is great, I'm fine, Martha next door is taking care of Poochie," she waves his question away dismissively. "How are you doing, son? Things are very different here than they were our last visit."

He's impressed that she leaves out the specifics; he'd half-expected Lucille to launch into line-by-line questioning. "I'm doing great," he assures her enthusiastically. "Things are great here at home. The bar is doing so well that I was able to promote one of the staff to general manager, and that's allowed me to cut back on all of the late nights I used to put in. I help Johnny out at the dojo a couple of times a week, and that's forced me to get into better shape. We're getting a couple of the advanced kids prepped for the All-Valley right now... Ma, what's wrong?" 

She'd startled when he mentioned the All-Valley, and now she's staring at him intensely. "What do you mean, helping out at the dojo?"

He suddenly realizes he hasn't told her anything about Cobra Kai, probably because he hasn't told her much about Johnny, and certainly hadn't told her he was getting back into martial arts - he _knows_ how she feels about that. He feels his chest tighten anxiously - now that he's opened up this can of worms, there's no way he can avoid this conversation.

"Johnny owns a chain of karate dojos," he admits, leaving out the Cobra Kai name, which would set her off for sure. "Ma, things are different now than they were when I was a kid. The... bad elements are gone, and the Southern California Karate Commission established tighter rules on schools and competitions."

His answer either satisfies her concerns, or she chooses not to say anything more - Daniel can't quite tell. She seems off this morning, out of sorts. Nothing a fun day out won't cure, he decides.

Johnny chooses that moment to join them on the balcony, coffee cup in hand. He looks cautiously at Lucille to gauge her mood towards him that morning. "Good morning. Care for breakfast? Thinking about french toast, bacon, and fresh fruit."

"Trying to fatten us up, then?" she says lightly; Johnny grins in relief. "Let me help in the kitchen-"

"Ma, you don't have to-"

"Come on, son, I know you don't cook anything but peanut-butter sandwiches," she teases Daniel, and it's clear to Daniel she's assuming Johnny's culinary skill is about on par with his.

"Come in then," he urges, "but you're the guest here, sit, relax!" He and Johnny break for the distraction of the kitchen, firmly diverting Lucille to a stool at the kitchen island and topping off their coffees. Over the months they've become a solid domestic team, Johnny directing and manning the stove while Daniel acts as sous chef, and their interactions and routines are as easy and smooth as their demonstrations at the Reseda dojo. 

The longer this goes on, the higher Lucille's eyebrows crawl up her forehead, but both men are too engaged in their comfortable camaraderie to notice. Finally, she breaks in with a question. "How long have you two been roommates?"

Johnny looks at Daniel with one eyebrow raised - that's an odd way to characterize their relationship - and Daniel gives him a little shrug before answering. "Just this month, but we've been getting together for, I don't know, Johnny, how long has it been? April?"

"Yeah, April, you got mugged right before Easter," Johnny confirms, looking over at him with a grin that Lucille doesn't see because she's focused on Daniel's surprisingly-adept knife skills at the cutting board. "Eight months, LaRusso, it's getting pretty serious," he teases.

Lucille is still processing the word 'mugged' and doesn't hear a single word Johnny said after that. "Mugged?" she exclaims. "You didn't tell me you were mugged!"

"Asshole," Daniel mutters at him.

"Daniel Ralph LaRusso Junior!"

It's amazing how his mother can still make him feel ten years old. "Sorry, ma. The mugging was unsuccessful. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you over nothing. I'm fine."

Johnny is snorting gleefully. "Show her the-"

Daniel shushes him ferociously. "I will take you down," he threatens under his breath.

"Hmph." Lucille seems mollified; Daniel releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and they finish preparing breakfast uneventfully. Lucille is very complimentary, and Daniel even catches her smile appreciatively at Johnny when she cuts into her french toast. "Perfectly executed - compliments to the chefs."

Johnny and Daniel grin at each other - this feels like progress.


	7. Hitting the town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During their day out, everything comes to a head.

Although the Tacoma would probably be better suited to carry the tree, for the sake of Lucille's comfort they opt to take the Audi instead, bringing along an old dropcloth and some rope to secure the tree to the roof and a handsaw to cut it down. It's already the 23rd so Daniel expects the trees will be well-picked over. In hopes of finding a tree farm with a better selection, they decide to head northwest, well away from Los Angeles, Johnny driving and Daniel manning Google Maps with his reading glasses perched on his nose.

"You are so old," Johnny teases when he spots Daniel peering over his readers.

"I don't want to hear it, Lawrence," Daniel retorts. "You need to get a pair for yourself, I'm sick of reading all the labels for you at the grocery store. 'LaRusso, what's the price on this?', 'LaRusso, how many net carbs does this have?'."

"Not happening, LaRusso," Johnny informs him flatly. "My eyesight is perfect."

Daniel rolls his eyes at his mother in the mirror. "You see what I have to put up with here," he tells her.

"You love it," Johnny tells him fondly. Lucille, sitting behind Johnny, raises an eyebrow at his words and tone but can't see the soft smile Johnny directs at her son.

Heading out of town was a good choice; they find a farm with plenty of mature trees, and after about thirty minutes of searching, they agree on just the right Monterey pine, symmetrical and full. Daniel sidles underneath its branches with the saw to make the cut while Johnny holds the trunk steady. 

Lucille is beside herself with enthusiasm, enjoying the temperate Southern California day and the sunshine. She spontaneously hugs Daniel as soon as he reemerges from under the tree: "It's been years since we had a live tree!" After a moment of hesitation, she even embraces Johnny, and Daniel is surprised to see that his boyfriend gets a little emotional when she does. 

He thinks about this as they walk back towards the car and realizes Johnny has been alone at the holidays until this year. He's an only child like him, and his mother passed away a few years prior. He and Sid were never close, and since his mother died, they've had little contact. Johnny was the one who'd broached the idea of getting a tree and making a fancy Christmas dinner; it's suddenly clear to Daniel that while his boyfriend puts up a tough-guy front, these Christmas traditions are deeply important to him.

Daniel gives him a quick one-armed hug; Johnny holds him tightly in the embrace for an extra moment and leans in to whisper roughly, "Thanks, babe."

After the farm operator wraps the tree, Daniel pays in cash and they work together to secure the tree to the top of the car, Johnny griping about getting pine sap on his paint. 

"I'll run it through a car wash tomorrow," Daniel reassures him. 

"It better be touchless," Johnny warns; Daniel groans dramatically.

Daniel insists they stop on the way at a hotdog stand; when Johnny objects ("I'm sure your mom doesn't want to eat a chili dog by the side of the road"), Daniel begs him to trust him: "She is going to _love_ this." To Johnny's surprise, she really does love the experience of eating their hotdogs at a roadside picnic table watching people and cars come and go, in marked contrast to his own mother who wouldn't have been caught dead eating at a roadside food stand.

"Danny, do you remember when we stopped in Ohio for those boiled peanuts? We ate them by the side of the road just like this."

"Boiled _what_?" Johnny demands.

"Peanuts," Daniel repeats. "Ma, those things were _nasty_. The guy scooped them out of this big vat of brine into a paper bag with this sieve-"

"-and they were _delicious_ ," Lucille continued dreamily. "Salty and juicy and hot, we sucked the juice right through the shells-"

"-ugh," Daniel shudders.

"I've never even _heard_ of boiling peanuts," Johnny marvels. "We should try that in the crockpot." Then he chuckles and leans over to murmur into Daniel's ear, "Salty and juicy..."

Daniel blushes hotly. "Come on, let's get going."

As they near home, Johnny reaches a hand across the console to grip Daniel's briefly. "You think it's all right if I swing by the dojo?" he asks. "I have mom's Christmas ornaments stored above the office. I meant to bring them home earlier and I completely forgot."

Daniel glances back at his mom, who is obliviously looking out the window at the unfamiliar scenery. "Ma, you ok if we swing by the dojo to pick up a few things? Will add about 20 minutes to our drive home."

She looks back at him after Johnny has released his hand. "Of course, honey. I may need to use the ladies' room there - if it has a ladies' room?"

"We do," Johnny confirms. "We have female students." 

"That's a change," Lucille observes with grudging approval. "Karate used to be boys only."

"There have been a lot of changes from the old days," he replies. "You'll see."

It's at that moment Daniel remembers his mother doesn't know 'Johnny's dojo' is Cobra Kai. He reaches across the console to rest his hand affectionately on Johnny's shoulder, and this time, she doesn't miss the gesture. Her eyebrows shoot for the stratosphere.

"Ma, there's something you should know," he begins, turning around to face her, his hand still resting near Johnny's neck.

"I should say so," she retorts. 

He raises an eyebrow but presses on. "Johnny bought Cobra Kai in 1990. It's his dojo now."

"Oh, Daniel," she sighs, and her tone is one of deep dismay. "I don't understand any of this. They destroyed Mr. Miyagi's little tree shop and forced him into bankruptcy. He lost his _house_. You were left _homeless_ , no friends, not a penny to your name. Those people _tortured_ you. How can you even set foot in that place?" She aims her next salvo squarely at Johnny. "How could you perpetuate that?"

Johnny is gripping the wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white; he looks at Daniel wide-eyed before returning his gaze to the road.

"Johnny didn't know about any of that, ma," he says. "All of that happened after he was gone."

To his shock, Lucille is in tears. She stares out of the window, avoiding his gaze. "This is all too much for me to take," she says finally. He looks at Johnny and sees he is clenching his jaw and blinking away tears.

"I screwed this up," he tells them both. "I'm sorry."

"I'll drop you off at the condo," Johnny announces roughly. "Give you some time alone."


	8. Tell me the truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, all becomes clear. Lucille has the choice to accept the truth... or not.

Johnny drops them both off unceremoniously at the front of the condo building's entrance and drives away with the tree still strapped to the roof of his car. Daniel stands bereft, watching Lucille with worry.

"Ma," he finally suggests after a few moments, "Let's take a walk to the beach." Silently, she nods, and they cross the street to the boardwalk. They walk a little way down the shore and sit down together in the sand.

"Daniel, what's going on here?" she demands.

"Tell me what you mean."

"The Cobra thing is bad enough," she begins, "but what I don't understand is whatever this is between you and John. You are... more than roommates. More than friends."

"Well, yeah, I told you that over the phone. That we'd moved in together." Then, her question from that morning comes back to him - she'd asked them how long they'd been _roommates_. She had completely misunderstood.

"Son, is this a romantic relationship?"

 _Shit._ He feels his face blossom into a hot flush. "Yes. I guess I wasn't very clear on the phone? Huh. I was pretty nervous about telling you. What you'd think. I was surprised you, ah, took it so well." He finds he can't meet her eyes, so he looks out at the ocean instead. "Because you didn't understand what I was trying to tell you. I am so stupid."

Lucille is also looking out to the horizon. "Is that why you and Amanda separated?"

"No ma, we divorced years before I ran into Johnny."

"I don't mean John. I meant... well, if you were... gay."

"No offense, but there's not enough alcohol in this town to get me to have _that_ conversation with you."

"All right," Lucille surrenders, turning to face her son. She's where he got his deep brown eyes and, unfortunately for him, the gray hair - at just over seventy, she is completely silver. "How long has this been going on? Is it a one-time thing? A phase?"

He puts his arm around her shoulders - she's so much smaller than he remembers - and speaks kindly and frankly. "Ma, this isn't a phase or a one-time thing. I think this is the real deal. I wouldn't have moved in with him if we weren't serious."

She sniffles and laughs at the same time. "So, I guess I'm out of luck for any grandchildren."

"That ship already sailed," he agreed, albeit with a little sadness. "Are you going to be ok with this? Because if you're not, this is going to be rough on all of us." He shakes her gently around the shoulders, suddenly feeling like the adult in the discussion.

"I actually like him," she tells him. "I can see you're happy, and you seem to be good for each other. I just wish you'd given me some time to get used to the idea. You're springing a lot on your old mother."

"I guess I am," he admits. "You know I've never been good with this stuff."

"Let's work on that," Lucille proposes. "No more secrets."

"All right. No more secrets." He stands and helps her come to her feet, and they share a comforting embrace before walking to the condo together. 

Later in the afternoon, he starts a light dinner for himself and Lucille, just pasta and sauce because, truth be told, he's useless in the kitchen without Johnny giving him instructions. 

By that evening, he's worried; Johnny still isn't home, and he's not answering his phone or replying to Daniel's texts. Finally, around 7, he gets a phone call from Laura at the bar.

"Daniel, I'm sorry to bother you when your mother is in town."

He looks over at Lucille with alarm and asks Laura, "What's the problem?"

"It's Johnny. I think you should come and check on him."

The moment they hang up, he grabs his keys and wallet and heads for the door; against his better judgment, Lucille insists on coming along. 

"Ma, it sounds like he's not in a great frame of mind. This isn't like him. He wouldn't want you to see him like this."

"I've been hard on him, and he probably doesn't want to come home. That's not right," she says firmly. "I've dealt with drunk men before, give me some credit, kid."

He shakes his head, both curious and afraid to ask more about _that_ story, whatever it is. "Come on then," he says impatiently. 

They drive somberly into Reseda in the Tacoma, unsure what to expect when they arrive at The Boardroom. It's 7:30 pm by the time they arrive, too early for the band but late enough that the after-dinner crowd is starting to build. Laura meets them at the door and briefly acknowledges Lucille before shifting her focus to him. "What did you do to him?" she demands. "He's in your booth with Brent doing shots and talking about how Christmas is ruined. If you make that sweet man cry at Christmas, Daniel, I'm going to personally kick your ass." 

_Of course,_ his mother is watching all of this with great interest.

"Jesus, Laura, ok, I'll talk to him. He hasn't been answering his texts."

"He's all yours. Be nice." She wags a warning finger at him.

"So that's your new manager," Lucille observes drily. "I like her too."

He shakes his head in resignation and leads the way to the booth, where he finds Johnny and Brent sitting across from each other, commiserating over tequila shots, the tabletop littered with chewed-up lime wedges. Both men look up at him fuzzily; Brent seems to be in slightly worse shape than Johnny, but they're both pretty lit.

"Good thing you're here," Brent tells him, and he's only slurring a little. "Johnny is having a bad day."

"Let me call you an Uber," Daniel suggests to Brent, pulling out his phone as he slides into the booth next to Johnny. "Let's get you home too, babe."

"I'm fine _right here_ ," Johnny counters, punctuating the last two words with emphatic finger taps on the table. "Go spend time with your family. Don't make it a thing."

Daniel leans over and presses his body against Johnny's to tell him, "Lawrence, you're part of my family now. Let's go home."

Johnny looks at him nakedly until Brent interrupts their moment. "Hey man, sorry about the other day-"

"Your ride is here, Brent," Daniel directs; it's only a white lie, his app tells him the car is three blocks away. "Why don't you go wait outside."

Brent stands and ambles towards the door with a friendly wave that Daniel returns.

"LaRusso," Johnny tells him with the gravity of the very drunk, not acknowledging Lucille when she slides into the booth across from them, "You never told me half of that shit. You hold all of this shit back."

"It was a long time ago. It's not important."

"It _is_ important," he says, turning to Lucille. "He holds stuff back all the time and it drives me crazy. He doesn't tell me anything. At least you gave it to me straight."

She reaches across the table to grasp his hand. "John, you know what? I like you. And we picked out that beautiful tree together today. Did you go get your mom's ornaments?"

Daniel looks on in amazement when Johnny _blushes_ at her kindness. "I did," he tells her. "The boxes are in the trunk."

"Then let's go put up the tree and decorate it and drink some egg nog." Here, she looks at Daniel and sternly informs him, "You're going to spike mine and you're going to make it strong."

"You got it, ma." Leave it to his mother to roll with the punches, just like she always does.

Thankfully, Johnny comes along without any resistance, voluntarily handing Daniel the keys to the Audi. Lucille and Johnny walk jauntily arm-in-arm, and he follows a pace behind - close enough to hear his mother confide, "He does that to me too, all the time. Doesn't tell me anything."

"Oh, _come on_ , now you're ganging up on me?" Daniel says petulantly. "How is this fair?"


	9. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny wakes up with a hangover and some blurry memories. What else is he waking up to?

Johnny wakes up early Sunday morning, just after dawn, with a pounding headache and a slideshow of highly-embarrassing memories playing before his eyes like the world's worst show-and-tell. "Oh, fuck," he moans, "what did I do?"

Daniel is passed out hard and snoring gently, his back pressed to Johnny's chest and their legs nested together. If neither of them is sleeping on the couch, he supposes it can't have been that bad - despite what the pain behind his eyes is telling him.

His mouth is dry and he realizes he is desperately thirsty, so he forces himself to roll out of bed and put on some pajama pants with his t-shirt in case he runs into Lucille in their kitchen. When he thinks of his partner's mother, his mind flashes an image of Daniel and Lucille retrieving him from the bar, then another where he loops arms with Lucille for the ride in the condominium elevator. Were they singing Christmas carols? _Oh my god._ He groans, again.

He pours himself a glass of Gatorade and wanders into the living room with it to look at the tree he barely remembers fastening to his mom's old tree stand with its rusty wingnuts. The tree is beautiful; Daniel must have left the lights plugged in because they're illuminated. Nearly all of the old colored bulbs still work, shining among all of his mom's family ornaments, most of which he hasn't seen in twenty years or more. 

For the last several years of his mother's life with Sid, their trees had been professionally set up and decorated to a theme by hired staff; all of their cloudy old glass balls, the shrink-a-dinks and homemade plaster shapes he'd made in the oven with his mom as a child, the tinsel garlands and odd hand-me-down sets were relegated to boxes in the attic. After his mom died, Sid allowed him to retrieve the boxes labeled "Xmas xoxo" and he wasn't even certain what things were stored inside. He'd never looked, opting instead to stow them in the Reseda dojo for some future year that never came. Alone in his sterile condo, he'd never bothered to put up a tree or hang a wreath on the door. There was no point when he was the only one there to enjoy it.

Now, looking at them, memories of earlier Christmases with his mom, before Sid, come rushing back to him, and he stands there blinking back tears that smear the lights into wet blurs.

"Hey," Daniel's soft voice interrupts his thoughts.

"Hey," he replies, his words a little hoarse. "Did you two do all of this yourselves?"

"You helped... a little," Daniel chuckles, pressing closer to wrap an arm around his waist. "It came out nicely, didn't it? Ma had a blast. Especially once she had her boozy egg nog. She'll be out of it until noon. I don't think she's put up a tree in years, she says there's no reason when it's just her. When I visit, we just go out for Chinese and call it a night."

"I haven't seen some of these since I was a kid," Johnny tells him.

Daniel looks at his face. "Hey, let's go back to bed," he suggests. "It's too early to be up. And we have a big day of cooking ahead of us, don't forget."

"Yeah," Johnny remembers their plans for the day and feels the grin stretch across his face. He puts an arm around Daniel's shoulders, leads him back to the bedroom, and closes the door. 

Daniel lifts Johnny's shirt over his head, removes his own, and pulls him in close by his waist.

"LaRusso, what about-"

"She's out like a light, I told you. But you'll have to be _very_ quiet, Lawrence." Daniel grins at him with a challenging glint in his eyes.

"You're crazy," Johnny marvels, "but I'll do my best."

Daniel takes the lead, pushing Johnny's pajamas down his lean thighs and palming his erection appreciatively. Johnny leans against him and moans; he stops and shushes him, laughing silently at his indignant expression. After they're both good and worked up, Daniel pins him to the floor and enthusiastically makes love to him, pressing their mouths together to smother the little sounds neither of them can hold back.

Later, after they're both spent, Johnny trembles from the release of built-up tension and whispers a satisfied "Asshole." Mercifully, his headache is gone - must be the endorphins.

"You did so good, baby," Daniel affectionately whispers back, caressing the back of his neck with his fingertips. Johnny _loves_ when Daniel says stuff like that.

After another proper hour of sleep, they wake up refreshed, shower, dress, and head straight into the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast and prep for the early-afternoon holiday dinner. The goose has thawed in the refrigerator; Johnny directs Daniel to prep the vegetables while he assembles the ingredients for a glazed pound cake and sets the double ovens to preheat.

"When is Mr. Miyagi coming?" Johnny asks after they've put the bird in the oven. He leans against the kitchen counter, and Daniel steps close to stand between his legs.

"1 or 2 o'clock," he confirms as Johnny tucks his hands into Daniel's rear pockets to pull him closer. "Will the goose be done?"

"Should be." 

They hear Lucille's door open; the sound prompts them to decouple and step a pace apart just before Daniel's mother steps into the kitchen.

"Well, aren't you two busy bees this morning?" she observes, looking around the kitchen with a raised eyebrow and a smile. "I'll tell you, after last night, I could use a good strong cup of coffee."

Johnny pours a mug and slides it across to her, along with the sugar bowl and the little carton of half-and-half. Rather than doctoring her coffee, she walks around the kitchen island and pulls him into a hug he has to bend over to return.

"How are _you_ doing this morning, kid?" she asks him, patting his back.

Johnny feels an uneasy mixture of comfort (from the hug) and shame (from the hazy memories of the night before) but puts on a brave front for Daniel's sake as well as his own. "Not bad; I slept like the dead. Love what you two did with the tree, can't say I remember most of it." He leaves the obvious question unspoken, but thinks it: _Was I a complete, sloppy mess?_

Lucille must be a mind-reader because she answers it anyway. "Well, _you_ were a prince, even if you don't remember it. We had a wonderful time putting up the tree and drinking eggnog. It reminded me of when Dan Senior was still here." She says this with a wink as she releases him from her embrace to sweeten her coffee.

He grins before getting back to the business of prepping the dough for the poundcake. He pours it into a bundt pan, and slides it into the oven, then starts working on the biscuit dough, and the activity allows his mind to wander pleasantly over the rest of the day. Mr. Miyagi and Lucille will probably remember each other well, and certainly more fondly than either of them remembered _him_ , making him optimistic for a happy, lively dinner - then something occurs to him.

"LaRusso," _shit, there are two of them now,_ "Daniel, does, uh, Mrs. LaRusso know Mr. Miyagi is coming to dinner?"

Lucille swats Daniel on the shoulder. "No," she scolds, "of course nobody told me. I didn't even know he was still alive! Oh, that sounded terrible. Well, you know what I meant. The man must be ninety years old."

"She knows now," Daniel retorts, rolling his eyes at both of them.

"Jesus, LaRusso."

She visibly holds herself back from scolding him about his language. "John, now that you two are getting serious, it's about time you started calling me Lucille. Don't you think so?"

His chest warms and tightens at this matter-of-fact acknowledgment of his and Daniel's relationship. “Only if you start calling me Johnny," he replies. "John is an old guy's name."

"Well, Johnny, you're overworking the biscuit dough," she informs him tartly, stepping closer with the obvious intent to take over.

"What? I am not overworking the dough. What do you know about making biscuits..."

"You can grease the pan, I'm making the biscuits. Is this salted butter?"

"Ma, come on, let Johnny make his biscuits."

Johnny's not used to all this friendly bickering, but he decides he likes it.

.

.

.

Over the several days of her visit, Johnny was surprised to learn how much he enjoyed Lucille's company. The LaRussos share an easy familiarity that reminds him of when he was small and it was just him and his mother, before Sid with his money and formality, and so many of the qualities he loves in Daniel - his stubbornness, bravery, and self-sufficiency; his whip-sharp humor; his warm eyes and unrestrained, toothy grin - echo Lucille's. Johnny couldn’t help but find her endearing, although the two LaRussos together generated a frenetic banter that drove him to the quiet of the balcony more than once.

They drove Lucille together to the airport on the 28th, carried her luggage to baggage check-in, then walked her as far as they could, all the way to the end of the security screening line. Her mood in the car was relaxed and jovial, but their embraces and goodbyes in the airport were bittersweet.

"You two take care of each other," she instructed them seriously. " I expect to see you both next year in Newark." When she hugged her son, she spoke quietly into his ear, "Danny, I am so proud of you. Don't ever forget it!"

"Come on, ma." Daniel ducked his head with embarrassment when she released him, but the color that rose in his cheeks told Johnny he was warmed by her approval. 

When he walked with Daniel back to the Audi, he looked at his boyfriend with concern and asked, "how cold is New Jersey in December, exactly?"

As soon as Daniel directed those guileless doe eyes at him, Johnny knew he was being played. "Have you ever heard the term 'nor'easter'?" Daniel asked him by way of reply.

"No."

"We'll have to find you a coat and some boots," he muses. "And some good wool socks."

"...Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter will post tomorrow (12/22) - abandon hope all ye who enter there, because it's pretty much going to be 100% self-indulgent smut for the dirty birds.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry smutmas!

The morning of new year's eve is particularly cold for southern California, in the low fifties, and Johnny is even more reluctant to leave their warm bed than he usually is. He pulls Daniel's dozing form closer to his bare chest and buries his face in his hair, inhaling the spicy clove scent of the leave-in conditioner he uses these days. He can't resist the temptation to run the fingers of one hand along Daniel's lean chest and down his abdomen, coming to rest at the warm juncture of his hip and thigh.

Finally, Daniel stirs, moans, and rolls over, tucking his head under Johnny's chin. "Too early," he complains.

"I know," he murmurs, but he continues anyway, tracing gentle fingertips along the course of his spine from the nape of his neck to the concavity of his lower back. Daniel purrs and flexes in response.

"Hey." Daniel opens his eyes to look up at him, reaching up to bury a hand in his messy bed hair and pull him by the roots for a gentle kiss. He's also pressing his entire body against Johnny in a slow rhythm that mimics the gentle strokes along his back.

Johnny rolls himself on top to cage the man between his arms, nesting their hips together. Johnny rolls his hips against him experimentally; this makes his eyes widen and a rosy flush color his cheeks, so Johnny does it again; Daniel's breath catches and he clutches at Johnny's shoulders, hard, staring up at him with pupils blown by lust.

"Please," Daniel murmurs, reaching one hand down between them and nudging fingers-first under the waistband of Johnny's boxers to find his now-turgid member. He thumbs the tip, collecting a smear of precum to bring to his lips and lick it clean with the tip of his tongue.

"Oh, I've missed this," Johnny moans, staring at his mouth. "I'm going to make you feel so goddamned good." He impatiently pushes Daniel's underwear down to his thighs, then shoves them the rest of the way off with the toes of one foot. Daniel laughs as he kicks them away, then encircles Johnny's wrist with his hand, bringing it to his mouth to suck on his index and middle finger. The feeling of Daniel's tongue lathing wetly at his fingers and the suction of his mouth prompts Johnny's body to respond with an involuntary thrust against Daniel's upper thigh. Daniel _mews_ , raising his hips to meet his own.

Johnny abruptly sits up and frees his hand from Daniel's mouth, rolling him roughly to all-fours then pulling him up to his knees to hold his back tightly against his chest with one arm. He ruts against him sensuously for a minute, feeling him tremble and jerk, before he uses his wet fingers to open him up. Daniel's _so tight_ , groaning at the pressure even as he presses himself down hard and back against his fingers.

He loves how physically _responsive_ Daniel is; once they were beyond a certain, secure point in their relationship, he'd let go of the last traces of self-consciousness that held him back from utter abandon. Listening to the other man's shuddering cries turns Johnny on like nothing else he's ever experienced, so it's an effort for him to hold himself in check and give Daniel only his fingers. He waits for him to _beg_ for it.

Daniel is gasping and writhing, but he knows the game - he's going to hold out for as long as he can. Johnny redoubles his efforts with his fingers, then spits on his other hand and uses it to stroke Daniel's straining erection - that move makes Daniel bark a surprised laugh until the redoubled attack on his defenses has him gasping again.

"Say it," Johnny demands in his ear before latching on to the tender skin high up on his neck with his teeth.

"Fuck-" The strain in his boyfriend's voice tells him he's getting close, so close, to giving in.

Johnny adds a third finger, and Daniel rolls his head back and cries out loudly enough to piss off the neighbors - not that Johnny gives a fuck about that. 

"You know what you have to say," he murmurs around the stunning hickey he's working into Daniel's skin with his mouth.

"Oh god-"

"You know you want it." He rolls his hips up sharply, mimicking a deep thrust, and it elicits the _filthiest_ , most beautiful moan he's ever heard come out of Daniel's pretty mouth. " _Please_ , Daniel."

"Fuck yes, I want it," Daniel growls.

"What do you want?"

Daniel makes one final, valiant attempt to hold out until another mock thrust forces a cry out of him. "I want you to fuck me, Lawrence."

"Oh, I'm going to do that," Johnny promises sweetly, withdrawing his fingers to shove down his briefs and free his aching cock. "What's the magic word," he demands roughly, holding his precum-wet head firmly against Daniel's pulsing entrance.

"Please," Daniel demands, and again, " _please_ , Johnny." 

With a shuddering groan of his own, Johnny sinks himself inside, deeply, pausing to give Daniel the time he needs to adjust to his girth. Both cry out when Johnny begins to fuck up into him, matching every thrust with a twisting stroke of Daniel's leaking cock. Daniel hoarsely calls his name every time he bottoms out, his head sagged back against Johnny's shoulder, his hair damped with sweat, their slick bodies sliding together erratically.

"Stay with me, baby, stay with me," Johnny urges him nonsensically, his rhythm stuttering when the sparking pressure builds at the base of his spine. Daniel's answering him, but if he intends words, they're voiced only as a constant stream of nonsense sounds.

Daniel explodes first. _That's going to be a mess,_ Johnny thinks disconnectedly right before he follows him over the cliff.

They stay connected while they catch their breaths; Johnny feels Daniel's aftershocks as tight pulses in the walls squeezing along his length, and they're both trembling from the exertion. Johnny finally, slowly withdraws, reaching for a towel by the bed for them both, and together they collapse against each other's bodies in a sweaty embrace. The room smells like sex - clean sweat and the sweetish-salty essence of cum - and Johnny feels compelled to smooth down Daniel's mussed hair. He purrs against him like a cat at the gentle touch.

They've come to rest on their sides, facing each other in the quiet, their legs entangled, and Johnny finds himself gazing across into Daniel's brown eyes. He looks completely blissed-out, the indirect morning light bringing out bright caramel notes in his dark irises, and Johnny feels a deep tug in his chest. The three words he wants to say are demanding to be spoken, as they have been for months, and somehow Daniel is right on his wavelength, as he so often is. 

He strikes first, simply. "I love you, Lawrence."

Johnny lets out a breath he'd been holding. "I love you, too, LaRusso. But you already knew that."

They stare at each other in shared vulnerability and wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out dedlit’s art on tumblr, including her rendering of this scene! 
> 
> https://dedlit.tumblr.com/post/638945291788222464/for-kdyelo-and-her-wonderful-story-a-very


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